


Hold On Sharpshooter

by ermIdunno



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, M/M, Mention of blood, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Shiro - Freeform, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Whump, but lets be real we all know you didn't get here by accident, can the hurt and the comfort happen simultaneously?, cause they're definitely not happening one after the other, just in cases, klance, klangst, scratch that a lot of mention of blood, see i warned you again, there is a pretty beach and two boys crying. what more could you want?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermIdunno/pseuds/ermIdunno
Summary: The Paladins are on a routine rescue mission when one shocking moment changes everything and Keith risks it all to save his dearest friend.





	1. Part 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy-hoo Erbody! This is basically just one heaping lump of sadness & emotion with little dots of action mixed in and some heavy sweet moments between two pretty boys all threaded together by a thin (very thin) plot. I'm writing this because of an amazing prompt by [painsthegame](https://painsthegame.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. They've got an awesome blog so check um out! This took me way too long to write and I'm mostly sharing it out of stubbornness at this point, but I really hope you enjoy anyways and leave a kudos & a comment down below if you do feel so inclined.

  "Hold on Lance! Hold on! Keep your eyes open. Come on!" Keith screams as he frantically drags Lance by the underarms across the rocky beach. The Blue Paladin is too heavy and slick with blood to pull smoothly or gracefully and too tired to realize he should help his frantic friend. 

The long rocky shoreline has become their newest enemy, though beautiful it is unforgiving and shows favor to no one. It's crashing waves licking at their feet and muffling Keith's desperate pleas. Their armor is doing little to help in this fight. 

  It feels like hours but it's only been minutes. _Where are the Lions?_ They were meant to be close, hidden safe within the ruins of a large underground cave. The cave  only accessible by diving within the Lions deep below the surface of the coastline. Swimming through the clear water to emerge at the inner beach of its hollow interior. Then, by foot through a secluded entrance that Pidge had only found during her initial scan. 

The mission was meant to be stealthy and quick; firstly - sneak into a small village on the alien planet and secondly - help the inhabitants escape an impending attack. _Simple, only two steps._ The village was populated by kind souls who lived off the sea and the rhythms of the seasons, a violence free race. Leaving them unable and unwilling to engage in any sort of conflict with the approaching squad of Galra on the cusp of reaching their borders. __  
  
  Their small capital “city” was a holy and ancient relic of times past. Their buildings made of precious shells and brittle stones and built too small and narrow for the Lions to help without causing more useless damage and destruction. The Galra had found their sacred land and wanted to lay claim to their resources, but with Voltrons help these peaceful inhabitants could avoid more bloodshed and escape with their dignity. So Voltron did the sensible thing, the respectful thing and left their Lions behind to help aid these passive people. No one knew it would be such a horrible choice. No one knew it would be such a horrible trick.  
......

“Pidge! Come in." 

Static. 

"Can you hear me?”

Static. 

“Pidge!" 

Desperation cuts through every silent second, "Anyone. I need a fix on the Lion's!”

Static. Nothing. 

_ Please. _

......  
__  
Keith is lost. The towering edge of the coast is hard to read, every jutting bolder and pocket of shadows looking the same. _How can he find the entrance without Pidge’s scan? Where are the rest of the team? Weren’t they meant to retreat?_ The rising tide is not helping Keith’s search. The sea won't slow its pace, not even for a Paladin of Voltron and soon they will run out of beach to stand on. Despite his growing panic the Red Paladin is left with no other choice than to keep searching and pulling Lance to safety. 

Before long Lance's blood begins to mix with the rising film of water, ebbing and flowing with the rocking of the waves. Its seeps out like ink, its dark fingers pulled long and mixing with the rolling sand. Lance tiredly watches it stretch and disappear, the sting of the salt water having done its job at keeping him awake. He's delirious enough to find this amusing, the deep red leaving him to play in the sand. Chasing him up and down, up and down. Tag you’re it. There, then away. Up and down.

_   Why did Lance have to be the hero? _ Why did he have to stand between a particularly nasty Galran Soldier and the child they were ushering to safety? Why did Keith look away at the exact instant they rounded the corner of that beautiful house made out of pale blue shells? Blue shells now dripping with the splatter of Lance’s blood. A burst from a close range Galran rifle sending Lance flying against the wall. Hands scraping against the coarse blue facade as he tried to stay standing. The child got away. Lance made sure of that, yelling and screaming for them to run while he fired back his own returning rounds. Long enough to distract the soldier until Keith could find his time to strike, kicking the enemy straight in the bend of the knee with a loud crack and a strong swing of his sword to silence his painful cry.

…..

“ _I’ve got a Paladin down!”_

_  “Keith!? Who?” All the Paladin's seem to say in unison. _

_ A pause, a hitch in his throat.  _

_  “Keith!” _

_  “Oh God.” Keith mumbles to himself. _

_ A wet cough, a sharp inhale, a muffled moan sinks into the comms from the background. _

_  “Lance. It’s Lance” He manages to explain. _

_ Silence. The others can't seem to form words. Then gasps, too many of them. “We were set up. This…this isn't what it seems" Keith continues. _

_ A shout and an explosion rings in from someone's connection. "I'm coming to the same conclusion." Pidge. _

_  Keith can't let anyone else get hurt, “I’m calling it. That's its Paladins, retreat! Get back to your Lions right away.” _

_  “Keith, can you get Lance back alone?” Hunk questions, worry laced through every word.  _

_  “Already on it. I repeat. Pull back immediately!” _

_ ….. _

  Keith's pace is slowing, exhaustion creeping through every muscle. Water soaks through their armor and Lance is steadily becoming too hard and heavy to carry. _Too heavy._ Desperation is gnawing at his insides, biting and tearing away at his normally cool facade. Keith is the one who always stays calm during the pressure. He’s the one who always knows what to do, who always finds a way… _right?_

Keith's doubts are making him  unsteady and too urgent to be careful as Lance slips from his grasp, hitting the hard sand with a small splash. Lance grunts from the impact and is shaken from his daze. He blinks rapidly up at the sky to clear his vision, breath more shallow and hoarse than before.

"Mullet?" Lance wheezes, so quite Keith would have missed it if he weren't looking. Keith scrambles to his feet to crouch over the Blue Paladin. Removing Lance’s helmet first and then his own. A trembling hand moves  without hesitation to Lance's sharp jaw line, gently cupping the boy’s cheek to help focus his gaze. Loose strands of Keith's damp messy hair tumble around his face, dropping beads of sweat that land and roll down Lance's own pale skin. 

"I'm here," Keith answers quickly, unable to hide any bit of worry. Lance smiles up at the sound and tries blinking away the heaviness of his eyelids to take in the boy above him, but he is too tired to truly focus. 

"Look at me Sharpshooter." Keith commands, his thumb rubbing a gentle line into the hollow of Lance's cheek.

Lance fights to meet Keith's gaze, still able to comprehend the urgency of his tone. He pauses a moment before responding, too distracted by the slight tilt of Keith’s head, the furrow of his brow, the length of his damp eyelashes and the shape of his mouth. "When did you get so beautiful?" he asks in a breathy whisper, eyes searching deep within the purple irises they stare into. This throws Keith off guard and for once he can’t respond with a sarcastic or logical answer before Lance speaks again, “It’s very distracting”.

… _Oh no_ … _no no no._

It’s worse than Keith thought, he can see red peaking behind Lance’s Lips. It coats his bottom teeth and hesitates at the corners of his sleepy grin. The sight ignites a fear deep within Keith, a fear he never fully realized before and it reminds him of memories best forgotten. Reminds him of feelings better ignored. _How much does he have to lose?_ His father, his home, and then finally after finding some kind of happiness, Lance too and he hates it. He hates how weak it makes him feel, how utterly useless. _Not now._

He gathers himself a second to fake composure, staring down at Lance's scarlet grin, "Well keep looking sharpshooter, I need you awake." Lance swallows thickly and can only manage a drowsy nod.

"Were almost there, but you have to keep talking to me okay?" Keith begins to remove his armor, “You hear me. I actually want you to talk," but Lance only blinks in response. 

Keith can actually hear the rise and fall of Lance's ruined chest, so heavy and sore. 

"Well at least do me a favor and keep those baby blues open for me?" Keith adds, but Lance's focus is drifting off with the tide. 

"That's an order." Keith demands more harshly than he intended, but it does the trick. Lance shakes his head to clear his vision and locks eyes with his leader once again. 

Keith starts removing his armor from the waist up. Pruned fingers slowed and slipping as they frantically do the work. 

"I've gotta take some of this off, I can't keep carrying you like this." He rips each plate off with force, throwing the pieces into the sand. The greedy tide immediately taking its prize and dragging it out of reach. He moves faster now without the weight and begins doing the same to Lance. He starts with Lance's gloves, then arm protection, but when he unstraps Lance's broken chest piece he is shocked to find that it pours out a dark greedy hoard of crimson water.

Keith stands frozen, breath hitched in his throat. His mind and body are stuck, unable to process the sight before him... _so much blood_. The black under armor barely hides the torn and gruesome hole that has ripped through the Blue Paladins chest. It weeps tears of ruby liquid down his ribs and into the sand. _How can it be so much?_ This all happened too fast. It happened too far from their Lions. It happened to the wrong Paladin. _Why does it have to be him?_ It’s too much blood for Lance to lose during the short time they've been stranded on the beach. Too much for Lance's slender frame to be without. _Too much. Too much._

Suddenly filled with boiling rage Keith hurls Lance's armor to the side as a half sob tears through his throat. 

“Fuck!” Keith drops to his knees in the sand next to Lance. He immediately rips off whats left of the wounded Paladin's under armor, checking for further injuries, _for an exit hole._ Finding only the one he presses his shaking hands to the wound. A deep moan seeps passed Lance’s lips. 

"This can't be happening." He whispers more to himself than to the man below him. Blood seeps between his tight pressed fingers. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Keith blurts out with a shake of his head, but Lance pays no mind. His thoughts are drifting like sea.

Lance lays within the push and pull of the tide, hair filled with coarse sand and tired eyes as deep and blue as the water surrounding him. His chest heaves with the effort of each inhale, every breath and pump of the heart pushing more fluid from its rightful place. He hardly notices the strain as he lets his fingers dance in the approaching film of water. A sly smile slips onto his pale lips as his fingers soak in the salty sea and grab dense sand into tight fists. _It’s so similar to home._ This small pleasure recedes like the tide as he hears Keith collapse on the sand beside him, feels the heavy pressure on his chest and the pain…once a blinding white heat that only simmers through him now. He drapes a cold hand over Keith’s own and manages to open his heavy eyes enough to look up at the defeated boy. Keith sits; knees slumped into the sand, shoulders hunched and hair a mess, looking small and fragile. This isn’t his leader, this isn’t right. He listens to the crashing waves as he grips Keith’s pale wrist with icy fingers. 

"It's okay," Lance whispers to him, almost succeeding in sounding strong. Lance feels content here at the end, not cheated or wronged, just content. He did what needed to be done, saved a life, so many lives really and he's happy with that. Happy with the life he was given. It's a lot to process, a lot to say when so much of you has seeped out and into the sand. So he settles with a simpler version.

"It’s okay". 

Keith slowly raises his gaze, unable and unwilling to hide his tears.

"It’s okay". Lance murmurs again behind a strong smile. Keith turns his wrist, his warm palm pressing firmly into Lance’s as he weaves their slim fingers together. Neither of them moves for a moment, each boy taking in the sight of the other. The sound of rolling waves measure out each passing second. The limited time drawing words unspoken to the edge of Keith's worried lips. Each evolving second more terrifying and precious than the one proceeding it. Keith takes in a deep shaky breath, holding for a tic before he tightens his grip and manages a somber smile. 

“Lance I... I have... tell you something” but his words are cut short. Lance’s gaze drops completely closed and Keith's stomach along with it. 

"Lance!" Keith shouts while lunging closer to the injured boy. He grabs Lance’s face with both hands, smearing scarlet as he shakes him gently. Keith lifts Lance’s thin neck, but his head lolls with heaviness. 

“You have to stay with me Lance, were almost there!” Keith pleads before shooting up in a panic and lifting the young man's heavy torso in a rush to drag him once again down the beach, quicker now that they've gotten rid of some weight. Lance's discarded armor sinks deep into the sand with the recess of the waves.

Keith lied. He can't tell one boulder apart from the next. He's lost, spitting out frustrated grunts and growls at the shoreline as he pulls Lance farther up the beach. _It's very distracting._

“Come on, come on!” Keith begs. _He has to wake up, he has to answer._ Keith's progress is slow as the beach becomes rougher, holes and jagged rocks littering every few feet. His anxiety grows with each misstep. He trips over a sharp stone, making him stumble and fall back into the hard damp sand. Lance almost slips from his grip, but Keith presses his limp body close to his heaving chest.

More distance costs precious time, an unfair exchange between the Paladins and the roaring beach. The prices are becoming too steep for both the boys in Blue and Red to pay. One more jagged rock, one more shallow hole is all it takes. Keith's body can't keep up with his stubborn will. His feet are too clumsy and heavy to operate properly anymore. He missteps and his legs go out from underneath him. 

Keith and Lance fall together for the last time. 

Keith sits there for a moment, panting and out of breath until he realizes he no longer has the strength to get back up. He throws his head back in defeat, in anger, in remorse and yells at nothing, at everything, at the tide, at his failure, at his loss, until his throat feels raw, until he realizes he is even screaming at all...

Screams turn into pained moans as Keith uses his last lingering bit of energy to haul Lance closer to his chest. The Blue Paladin lays half in the sand and half cradled in Keith's lap; between bent legs and wrapped up in weary arms. The back of his head rests against Keith's collarbone and Keith uses this closeness to tuck his chin into Lance's wet hair. He stays like this for a moment, breathing in Lance’s smell and looking out at the tumbling ocean. His eyes trail up the shore as he follows the long broken smear of blood that leads down the beach, connecting Lance to his past, to that spray on the wall, _to this damn water_. 

“I’m so sorry Lance. I tried. ” Keith whispers as he presses his lips onto the top of Lance's head, leaving a firm strong kiss without even comprehending the action. He squeezes his eyes shut tight hoping to fight back a dreadful sob. Staring out at the rolling water, Keith sucks in a shakey breath. His lips trail down Lance’s temple, tickled by the curled ends of his wet hair and he whispers in the boy’s ear - _soft words only meant for him._ Keith’s parted lips then trace along Lance's cheek and he leaves another half thought out kiss on the smooth skin below them. _It's okay. It's okay.._. 

Keith's body is moving on autopilot now, half on his own way to shock. He only knows the sound of the waves and the weight in his arms as he continues his pleas. He mumbles to Lance between gentle kisses, “Please wake up,” his lips graze the edge of closed eyelashes, “Let me see those blues,” he begs. His lips press softly at the corner of Lance’s faded grin, “Please say something.” He waits for a response, but nothing comes. 

“Anything!” he desperately shouts, the pain of memories tearing him apart. All the smiles shared, the fights, the anger, and the mistakes. The sneaky grins, the hidden glances and the lingering touches. Every word said, laughs wailed, all the could have’s and - _oh god_ \- should have’s come crashing into Keith stronger than any wave and he can only manage to hide his face in the crook of Lance’s neck while the weight of these emotions come pouring out of him. 

……

……

……

……

……

At first he doesn’t realize, at first it is so faint, drowned out by the sound of the sea but it’s there. The rumbling and the destruction. It comes from somewhere down deep and it grows louder and louder until it surpasses the constant noise of the ocean. It shudders the ground and shakes the sand until its muffled tone breaks into oxygen and the earth comes crumbling away in an explosive display of strength. 

The Black Lion has crawled out of the cave, somehow, someway. Dug through strong rock, mud and sand until she stand's towering before her two broken Paladins. Keith holds onto Lance until the ground stops moving and the sky stops raining soil. Torn earth and water roll off her sleek metal. It fills the air with an invigorating freshness and Keith inhales the scent deeply. He stares up at this display of strength in pure shock - tear streaked and red cheeked - but hope sparks in his gut none the less. 

Black promptly lowers her head, her metal jaw sinking into the sand as she readies for her Paladin to step inside. 

“Thank you” Keith exhales before standing up on shaking legs and hauls Lance inside. _Thank you._


	2. Part 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance make it back to Atlas with the help of the Black Lion, but do they make it in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy! So inspiration is a beautiful thing! This is SUPER super short (sry), but at least I'm writing again. Woop woop! I've already started on Pt. 3 so it won't be another eternity between updates.

** Pt 2. **

          Red emergency lights flash in quick succession, illuminating the chaos around Keith in sickening snippets. He stands steady and alone amongst the disorder, air hisses through his gritted teeth. The tight bulge of strained muscles twitch and ache at his clenched jaw. Bone grinds against bone threatening to crack under the force of a caged scream. _This much anger, can it destroy someone? Tear them apart from the inside out? Claw up someone’s throat like bile, burning and growing until it shatters through, breaking teeth – spit out the broken fragments – let the blood drip and drain the anger with it._ He wishes it was that easy, but this kind of rage, it won’t fade away. It will never leave him; he won’t allow it.

          He stares at a small puddle of water that has pooled beneath his feet. Its slick surface vibrates from the heavy footsteps of others and a ripple echo’s out from the weight of a solitary drop. _When did he start crying?_ _Drip._ He can hear the gunshot, see Lance sliding down to the ground, hear the choked noise he made. _Drip._ He winces from the shrill tone of the sirens overhead. _Drip._ A medic slams into his shoulder. _Drip._ Lance is being carried away on a stretcher. _Drip._ Someone is shouting. _Drip. Drip. Drip._ Keith is back in the Black Lion.

          “Let’s go!” Keith shouts to Black as his legs buckle beneath him. His knees pulse with pain from taking on the full weight of himself and the wounded Paladin he cradles. His arms are spent from the strain, but Keith manages to slide them both down together - one elbow propped on the deck and the other arm wrapped around Lance’s wet frame. 

          Under different circumstances Keith might have been embarrassed. From the cramped quarters, Lance’s bare chest to the intimacy and gentleness that now shows so naturally through his every movement. None of that matters now. If Lance makes it - the thought flutters quickly through his mind - Keith will do better and be better to him.   

          Black is already in the air and the sheer force of it sends them sliding across the floor into the cockpit chair. Keith locks an arm around its base and hold’s Lance tight against his body in a protective embrace. They shake together from the power of Black’s speed against the planet’s atmosphere. Even still Keith feels a weak rhythm of breaths tickling the sensitive skin at the crook of his neck. _I’ve got you Lance._

          Within seconds the turbulence evens out. Keith pulls back, hoping that somehow the commotion has woken up his friend, but Lance’s eyes remain shut. His parted lips are looking even bluer in the Lions dim light and the realization shocks Keith into action. Black is flying _fast_ , but not fast enough. Keith places a warm palm to Lance’s cold cheek, “You stay with me” before he’s up and in his pilots’ seat.

          “Shiro! Come in!”

          Static.

          “Atlas! Can you read me?” _Please._

          A click and then “Loud and clear Keith, what’s your status?”

          “Lance is critical. We’ve just left the planet’s atmosphere; we need immediate extract from Black and a medical crew standing by in the loading bay for dock” One breath that’s all it took.

          A pause, barely there, but enough, “Understood Keith.” His brother grips the console hard enough to hear a crack under the strain of his metal arm. No judgment, no unnecessary questions. Shiro can hear the distress behind Keith’s words and that confirms every fear and assumption he has about the situation, “What is your ETA?”

          Keith’s gaze narrows to the stars beyond, no room for doubt, no room for anything except saving Lance.

          “Now.” And with that Keith shoves everything aside - _patience yields focus –_ he growls in unison with his Lion, his anger and fear converging into an unwavering determination. They see as one. See the Atlas among the distant constellations and fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...maybe I won't have as much comfort in this chapter as I thought...maybe that's part 3? I don't know. You tell me. (please) Hehe If anyone is out there, I lurb you!

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOO that was sad. With a capital. S.A.D. But to quote the singer Jewel 'my hands are small, I know,  
> But they're not yours they are my own' and I can write as much whump as I wan't to! This was mah very first Voltron fic so I am very late to the party, but hey better late than never! Am I right! 
> 
> So two things I've learned while writing this; One: dang I love me some detailed descriptions on some things..... I just want you to see EXACTLY what I see in my head. Controlling much!? And Secondly: I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO STAY IN THE RIGHT TENSE BUT SCREW IT. ITS WHAT FEELS RIGHT. Anyways at least I had fun & learneded some things and that's the point isn't it? Hope you enjoyed and you can find me on Tumblr here if you so desire: [Whishful Whumping](https://whishfulwhumping.tumblr.com)


End file.
